DISCLAIMER: I only own Bridget. Sorry its been awhile. Its midterm week.
S2 EP28 NO EXIT
Bridget adjusted her sunglasses as they stood by the Impala outside the Roadhouse. They had stayed there the last two days, separate rooms down the hall as promised so Dean didn't have to hear them. They were discussing their next case.
"Los Angeles, California," Dean said.
"Not that I'm not excited to go to L.A., but what's there?" Bridget asked.
"A young girl has been kidnapped by an evil cult," he said.
"Yeah? Girl got a name?" Sam asked.
"Katie Holmes," Dean joked.
Sam laughed, "That's funny. And for you, so bitchy."
They heard arguing coming from inside the Roadhouse. Mom and daughter were going at it again. Bridget gestured at the building, "Of course, on the other hand – we got a cat fight."
"Shall we?" Sam asked.
Bridget sighed and nodded, pushing off the car. "Let's check it out, but stay out of the way."
"Easier said than done," Dean mumbled.
"Don't you bet on it, sweetie!" They heard Ellen yell as they walked in, pausing in the door to see the two in a heated argument.
"What are you gonna do?" Jo yelled. "Are you gonna chain me up in the basement?"
"You know what? You've had worse ideas than that recently! Hey, if you don't wanna stay, don't stay! Go back to school!"
"I didn't belong there! I was a freak with a knife collection!"
"Yeah, but getting yourself killed in some dusty backroad, that's where you belong?"
They seemed to notice the three of them standing in the doorway. Ellen took a deep breath, "Guys, this is not a good time."
"Yes, ma'am," Sam nodded.
"Yeah, we rarely drink before ten anyway," Bridget agreed.
They turned and headed for the door but not quick enough. "Wait!" Jo said and they winced turning around slightly. "I wanna know what they think about this."
"I don't care what they think," Ellen hissed.
The phone rang and Ellen answered. Jo took her chance to hold the file out to Dean. "Three weeks ago, a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment," Dean stared at it. "Take it, it won't bite."
"No, but uh, you're mom might," Dean said but took it.
"And this girl wasn't the first. Over the past eighty years, six women have vanished – all from the same building, all young blondes. Only happens every decade or two, so cops never eyeball the pattern. So, we're either dealing with one very old serial killer or-."
"Who put this together? Ash?" Dean asked.
"I did it myself."
"I've got to admit, we've hit the road for a lot less," Sam said.
"Yeah, and for once this guy has a type and I'm not it," Bridget added,
"Good," Ellen said. "If you like the case, it's yours."
"Mom!" Jo exclaimed, spinning around to face her.
"Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. I won't lose you, too. I won't."
Bridget, Sam, and Dean stayed awkwardly silent, unsure if they should move or much less breathe. Bridget took a chance. "Thanks Ellen. We'll look into it," she tapped both boys on the shoulder and unfroze them from their spots. They left and didn't look back to see the angry disappointed look on Jo's face.
A road trip later and they were in the apartment building the girl had disappeared in. The EMF meters weren't picking up anything just yet.
"I feel kind of bad, snaking Jo's case," Sam admitted, checking the walls.
"Yeah, maybe she put together a good file. But could you see her out here, working one of these things? I don't think so," Dean said. "Getting anything?"
"No, not yet," Bridget said and paused when she saw the outlet on the wall. "What the hell is that?"
"What?" Dean asked.
Sam was already looking at it. "Holy crap."
Dean touched the goo, "That's ectoplasm. Well, I think I know what we're dealing with here…it's the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man."
Bridget rolled her eyes, "Dean, I've only seen this stuff twice. Both times when I was working with you and your dad and its only when there's a majorly pissed off spirit like the one had cut my leg three years ago."
"Yeah, that had been a pissed off demon," he nodded. "All right, let's find this badass before he snags anymore girls."
"Least he goes for blondes," Bridget sighed in relief as they exited the hallway. The three paused hearing a familiar voice and turned the corner seeing Jo standing there with the superintendent.
"Oh my God," Bridget said. "Why do I think she ran away and Ellen doesn't know?"
"Because Ellen is going to hunt us down and kill us," Sam nodded his head.
Dean was already walking towards her and they followed, "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked Jo.
"There you are, honey," Jo smiled and put her arms around his waist. "This is my boyfriend, Dean, and his buddy Sam and his girlfriend, Bridget."
"Good to meet you," the superintendent smiled. "Quite a girl you got here."
He chuckled dryly. "Oh yeah, she's a pistol."
"So, did you already check out the apartment. The one for rent?"
"Yeah, yes," Dean nodded. "Loved it. Great flow."
"How'd you get in?" he asked.
"It was open," Bridget cut in.
"Now, Ed, when did the last tenant move out?" Jo asked him.
"Oh, about a month ago. Cut and run too. Stiffed me for rent," he grumbled.
Jo laughed, "Well, her loss and our gain. 'Cause if Dean-o loves it, that's good enough for me."
"Oh sweetie," he smiled, hitting her hard on the back.
Jo handed Ed a wad of cash. "We'll take it."
He seemed stunned but took the money, "Okay…"
Bridget and Sam exchanged a look, fireworks were about to start but not as big as the mushroom cloud that would soon be boiling at the roadhouse.
Bridget made busy with cleaning her knives as Sam did cleaning the guns in the case. Jo seemed to think it was all some sort of joke, a game. "I'll flip you for the sofa."
Dean shook his head, "Does your mother even know you're here?"
"I told her I was going to Vegas."
Bridget snorted, "You think she's really gonna buy that?"
"I'm not an idiot. I got Ash to lay a credit card trail all the way to the casinos," she said.
"You know you shouldn't lie to your mom. You shouldn't be here, either. This isn't a job for girl's."
Jo pointed to Bridget who was sharpening one of her knives on a slate. "Bridget is a girl and she works with you."
Dean dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "Bridget doesn't count as a girl."
She stopped sharpening her blade and glared at Dean. Without looking she flipped the knife in her hand and threw it at the Winchester. It stuck in his shirt pinning him to the wall. His eyes widened and he turned to Bridget. "At the same time I'm scared and awed by you right now and slightly turned on. That was a nice shot."
Bridget walked over to him and removed the blade, looking him dead in the eyes. "I missed…keep it up with your mouth though and I won't miss next time."
Dean looked a little scared by that thought and Sam changed the subject. "Where'd you get all the money?"
"Working at the Roadhouse."
"Hunters don't tip that well," Dean said inspecting the hole in his jacket.
"They're not that good at poker either."
Dean's phone rang and he flipped it open. "Yeah?...oh Hi Ellen…" he gave Jo a smug smile and she started silently arguing with him until Dean spoke in his phone through clenched teeth. "Nope, I haven't seen her…yeah, I'm sure…Absolutely…"
He hung up, glaring at Jo as she smiled brightly. Bridget shook her head in disbelief. This little girl was going to get them all in trouble. Big trouble.
Research came later and Bridget sat at the table next to Sam going over some of the papers as Jo talked. "This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago."
Dean was pacing. Bridget couldn't blame him. Ellen would ski him alive once she found out he was lying. "Yeah? What was here before 1924?"
"Nothing. Empty field."
"So, most likely scenario – someone died bloody in the building, and now he's back and raising hell.
Jo shook her head, flipping the knife in her hand. "I already checked. In the past eighty two years, zero violent deaths, unless you count the janitor slipping on the wet floor," she looked at Dean. "Can you please sit down?"
He exchanged a look with the other two, Bridget shrugged and Sam nodded and he sat. "So, have you checked the police reports? County death records?"
"Obituaries, mortuary reports, and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing."
Bridget turned her snort into a cough.
"I think the jury's still out on that one," he said agreeing with her. "Could you put the knife down?"
"Okay," Sam said. "So, it's something else, then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought the spirit with it."
"That means we gotta check whatever we can get to," Dean said. "Okay so, Jo you're with Bridget, you two take the top two floors."
"What?" Bridget exclaimed. "Why me?"
"You got the protection bubble," Dean pointed at her necklace. "You're safest."
Bridget grumbled, tucking a salt pistol at her back and grabbing a flashlight. "Let's go, young one."
Jo was just as reluctant as they reached the top floor. "You know we can split up if you want?"
"No, you're sticking with me," Bridget told her scanning with the EMF reader. "You're blonde after all. Just his taste."
"Exactly."
"You want to be bait?" Bridget asked her raising an eyebrow.
"Quickest way to draw it out."
"Quickest way to get killed, trust me on that. I'm usually the bait – reluctantly," she added on seeing as how she'd been hung and nearly drowned not to mention hooked in the leg and nearly beheaded. Not fun being bait.
"Least you get to do the job."
"Least you have a mother who worries about you," Bridget countered, scanning the wall. "You'll miss it when you don't have it anymore."
"Bridget, why did you want to do this job?" Jo asked her.
She snorted. "It wasn't by choice…more or less destiny."
"You want to be normal?"
"What's wrong with normal?" she shrugged.
"It's boring."
She shook her head and stopped walking, "What would you know, Jo? You don't work out there like we do."
"No, but I want too."
"No," she said again a little more sternly. "You don't."
"Yes, I do."
"Why?"
"Because of the danger, the excitement."
Bridget cut her off with a dry laugh and turned to face her fully. "The danger? The excitement? Tell me Jo, what is exciting about watching the house you lived in burn? Where's the fun in watching your own family, your brother and your nephew die in a fire? Where is the excitement in holding the love of your life in your arms while he bleeds to death as the house you just mentioned burns with your family in it? Huh, Jo? What is so alluring about that? Ask Sammy what was exciting about watching Jess die? Or Dean about his mother's death? Ask them both what was so exciting about their dad dying? Please, Jo, I'm begging to hear your answer to this one."
The blonde girl remained silent, unsure of what to say and Bridget nodded. "That's what I thought…you're the lucky one…you have a Mom still…"
Bridget walked a head of her and Jo followed.
Bridget sniffed the air with a frown. "You smell that?"
"What is it? A gas leak?" she asked, face scrunching.
"No, it's something else," she bent down near the vent and pulled. It was locked. With a frustrated sigh she held her hand over it, focusing on the screws.
"Whoa," Jo said, watching the screws fall out. "How are you doing that?"
Her head was starting to hurt slightly from the force of using it but the panel came off with the screws and she looked inside with her flashlight. "I'm different…there's something in there…here," she pulled out a clump of blonde hair in disgust. "Oh God…somebody's keeping souvenirs."
"Whoa…we better get back."
Bridget nodded and stood, heading back to the apartment. Sam and Dean were inside, "Did you find anything?" Dean asked.
She dropped the clump of hair on the table and both boys looked shocked. "It was stuck in a vent that smelt of sulfur on the upper floor."
"Looks like we got something after all," Dean said.
"Oh yeah, now I'm going to go shower and go to bed. Sam and I get the room," she said heading towards the bedroom.
"But-."
"I said we get the room," she said sternly and shut the door behind her.
Dean and Sam looked at Jo at the slam of the door. "You two have a cat fight?" Dean asked.
"Not really."
Sam nodded and cleared his throat, "I'm gonna go see what's up."
"Good luck," Dean muttered and waited for the door to shut to slant his gaze at Jo. "What did you do?"
"Nothing," she shrugged, lying on the couch.
"Bridget doesn't usually get upset over nothin'," Dean told her.
Jo opened a book. "No idea…"
Dean shook his head, letting it go as he tried to get comfortable in the armchair that was far too lumpy for his liking.
Bridget sat next to Sam at the table, spinning a spoon in her coffee as she looked out the window of the building. She was still in a dark mood after the argument with the teenager last night. The said teenager was currently rousing Dean from his sleep as she twirled her knife in her hand. "Morning, princess."
Dean grumbled rubbing at his eyes as Bridget pushed the coffee pot across the table towards him as he approached. "Ugh, my back," he glared at Bridget. "How'd you two sleep in that big ass bed?"
"It was great," Bridget mumbled, still twirling the spoon in her cup.
"Come on," Sam said and gestured with his head for her to follow as he stood up.
Bridget glanced at him. "Where?"
He held his good hand out to her. "For a walk with me in the park a block from here."
"Why?" she asked with a slight smile.
"Just because."
She put her hand in his and allowed him to help her up. Sam didn't let go of her hand as they walked away and she leaned her head on his shoulder, wrapping her other arm around his and closing the door behind them.
"What's Bridget's story?" Jo asked after a few minutes of silence once they left.
"Huh?" Dean asked unsure if he heard her correctly.
"Why does Bridget do this job? She wasn't raised as a hunter like you and your brother so why does she do it?"
"Why do you ask?" Dean questioned her wondering if this had anything to do with the mood Bridget was in.
She sighed in defeat, "I think I might have offended her last night and I wanted to know what made her choose this."
Dean cleared his throat, rubbing at his eyes with his hand. "Uhh…not sure I should say."
"Please, Dean," Jo pleaded, twirling her knife still.
He blew out a breath and nodded, leaning forward a bit. "She's gonna kill me…You're right. Bridget wasn't raised on hunting like me and Sammy. Hell, she had a normal life, least as normal as it could be. Her parents died in an accident, a normal accident when she was a kid and it was just her and her older brother Derek."
"Were they close?"
"Yeah," Dean nodded. "I knew Derek…we went to high school together for a brief time…he was three years older than me but man he could throw a football like no one's business, I didn't know he had a little sister though not until I met her a few years ago…anyway, her and Derek were really close even before the accident. Accidents just have a way of making bonds tighter, not to mention Derek dropped medical school after his parents died and his aunt was done with them because Bridge was still a minor and he wanted to be able to take care of her and support her, make sure she got through the rest of high school and into college and all that crap. Which, you know, she did cuz Bridge is smart."
"Okay so what's all this got to do with now?"
"I'm gettin' there," he rolled his eyes. "You need the background before you get the ending. Okay, so in that time of Bridge being fifteen to her being eighteen and in college, Derek got married to his sweetheart, Lydia. And while in college Bridget met Will and those two kids hit it off. Couple years later she's engaged to him and they planned on gettin' married sometime after her nephew was born."
"Sounds like a good life."
"Yeah," he nodded sipped his coffee. "It was…about a year later, after her nephew was born and six months old…there was a fire in the house…Lydia had gone up to check on the baby and after awhile they wondered what was takin' her…so Derek goes up and a few minutes later Bridget and Will hear him yell and they run up…but it's too late…the fire started and spread. She said she saw Lydia on the ceiling and Derek had the baby…but the roof fell on him, she tried to get to him and Will had to drag her away before she died in the fire with them. He got her outside and they watched the house burn…just when it couldn't have gotten worse next thing Bridget knew Will shouted her name and shoved her out of the way. She saw a blonde woman with piercing eyes disappearing into the dark and then saw Will bleeding from the chest…he died in her arms before the fire department got there…her whole family dead…not long later she saves my ass on a hunt and asks my dad to join up…been with us ever since."
Jo was silent for a moment, "Oh my God…"
He nodded, "Yeah…three years later we get Sammy from school…the rest is history."
"I didn't know," she mumbled and ran a hand through her blonde hair. "She looks so happy."
"Bridge is a tough chick."
"How long have she and Sam been together?"
"Uhh…few months I think," he shrugged and watched her twirl the knife more. He reached into the duffel bag on the other chair and pulled out a larger knife handing it to her. "Here."
"What's this for?" she asked with a frown.
"It'll work a hell of a lot better than that little stick you've been twirling around."
Silently, Jo handed him her knife and he read the initials on the side of it. W.A.H.
"William Anthony Harvelle," Jo said sadly.
"I'm sorry…my mistake," he handed her father's knife back to her.
"What do you…what do you remember about your dad? I mean, what's the first thing that pops into your head?"
Dean took a deep breath after a long pause. "I was six or seven and uh…he took me shooting for the first time. Bottles on a fence – that kind of thing. I bull's eyed every one of 'em. And he gave me this smile like…I don't know."
"He must have been proud."
"What about your dad?" he asked changing it.
She smiled sadly, "I was in pigtails when my dad died, but…I remember him coming home from a hunt and he'd burst through the door like Steve McQueen or something. And he'd sweep me up in his arms and I'd breathe in that old leather jacket of his. And my mom, who was sour pissed from the time he left – she'd start smiling again. And we were…we were a family…you wanna know why I wanna do this job? For him. It's my way of being close to him. Now, tell me, what's wrong with that?"
"Nothing," Dean said and there was silence until Bridget and Sam came through the door looking more serious than they'd left.
"What's up?" Dean asked.
"There are cops outside," Bridget answered. "Another girl disappeared last night."
"Theresa Ellis – apartment 2-F," Dean read off his research. "Her boyfriend reported her missing around dawn."
"And her apartment?" Jo asked.
"Cracks all over the plaster – walls, ceiling. There's ectoplasm, too," Sam said.
"Between that and that tuft of hair, I'd say this sucker is coming from the walls," Bridget added.
"Yeah, but who is it? The building's history is totally clean," Dean said.
Jo was looking at a photo. "Maybe we're looking in the wrong place."
"What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"Check this out," she handed him the photo.
"An empty field?" Sam questioned.
"It's where the building was built. Take a look at the one next door," Jo said.
Bridget noticed the bars on it. "Bars on the windows…"
"We're next door to a prison?" Dean asked in disbelief.
"I'll call Ash," Jo was already pushing a button on her phone and talking on the other side of the room.
"This just gets more and more interesting," Bridget sighed.
"Interesting or disturbing?" Sam asked her from her left.
"Since when is there a difference in our line of work?"
"Touché," he shrugged.
Jo hung up her phone and came back over to them. "Okay. Moyamensing Prison was built in 1835, torn down in 1963. And get this – they used to execute people by hanging them in the empty field next door."
"We need a list of all the people executed there," Sam said.
The laptop flashed on the table, indicating email. "Ash just sent it."
Bridget clicked a few buttons on Sam's screen and uploaded the file. Her eyes widened. "157 names…"
"We've got to narrow that down," Dean said with a heavy sigh.
Bridget cracked her knuckles with a smile and typed away at the keys, "I'm already on it." She hit a few more buttons and narrowed it to five.
Sam leaned in with a frown at the first name on the list. "Herman Webster Mudgett?"
"Yeah?" Jo asked.
"Wasn't that H.H. Holmes real name?"
Bridget and Dean paled and he shook his head, "You've got to be kidding me."
Bridget typed in at the keys again. "Please tell me he's joking," she mumbled to herself. The news paper came up on the computer. "Dammit…"
"Yup," Dean nodded, reading it over her shoulder. "Holmes was executed at Moyamensing May 7, 1896."
"H.H. Holmes himself."
Bridget shook her head, "Come on, I mean, what are the odds?"
"Who is this guy?" Jo asked after sitting clueless.
"The term 'multi murderer' – they coined it to describe Holmes. He was America's first serial killer before anybody knew what a serial killer was," Dean explained.
"Yeah, he confessed to twenty-seven murders, but some put the death toll to over a hundred," Bridget added on.
"And his victim of choice was pretty petite blondes," Sam put in. "He used chloroform to kill them, which is what Sammy and I smelt last night. At his home the police found bone fragments, locks of bloody blonde hair."
"So, we'll just find the bones, salt them, and burn them right?" Jo asked.
Bridget snorted. "Well, it's not that easy. His body is buried in town, but it's encased n a couple tons of concrete."
"What? Why?"
"Story goes that he didn't want anybody mutilating his body, cause that's what he used to do," Dean told her.
"You know something…we might have a bigger problem than that," Sam said.
"How does this get bigger?" Jo asked with a roll of her eyes.
"Holmes built an apartment building in Chicago. They called it The Murder Castle. The whole place was a death factory. They had trapdoors, acid vats, quicklime pits. He built these secret chambers…inside the walls. He'd lock his victims in, keep them alive for days. Some he'd suffocate, other's he'd let starve to death."
"So, Teresa could still be alive. She could be inside these walls," Jo said.
"We need a sledgehammer, crowbars – we've gotta smash these walls anywhere thick enough to hide a girl," said Dean, standing to his feet.
They had split apart. This time Bridget went with Sam, less chance of her killing Jo that way. And it was a good thing since she was inside the wall passage with Sam, pressed tightly to him. Usually she'd try something crude with it but seeing as how they were looking for a girl captured by serial killer Holmes now was not the time.
"You know," Bridget said as she squeezed through behind Sam. "For once I'm really glad I'm not the bait type."
"Crazy killer kidnapping girls – I'm glad you aren't either."
"Awe, you do care," she teased.
"You and your defensive sarcasm. You're like my brother sometimes."
"And you love me so it works. Do you see anything?"
Sam shook his head and did his best to turn around to face her. "No, there's a dead end and the maps show nothing that way but the next apartment."
"Great," she winced uncomfortably at the space. "Guess we should move back."
"Good idea, I'm feeling claustrophobic in here."
"A 6'4 man feeling claustrophobic in a five foot space, never thought I'd hear that," she snorted and moved her way through.
"You're small, you fit in here easier," he said and knocked his head on a low beam, rubbing at the spot.
She giggled, "Awe, for once it pays to be short." Bridget moved out of the hole in the wall with ease, smiling as Sam struggled to get out, tripping twice when he caught his foot in the hole. "Gee, think the land lord will notice the gigantic hole we created."
"He'll never know t was us and that's all that matters," he said and grabbed her hand moving down the hall to find Dean and Jo.
It didn't take long before Dean practically ran into them. "Whoa," Sam said, steadying his brother who came flying around the corner.
"He got Jo!" Dean spat.
"What?" Bridget asked concerned now even though the girl was a pain in her ass. "How'd that happen?"
"I wasn't with her, I left her alone. Damn it!"
"You left her alone," Bridget said wide eyed. "She's exactly his type and you left her alone? Are you insane?"
"Let's just calm down," Sam said moving in-between them. "We'll find her, all right?"
"Where?" Dean asked.
"Inside the walls," Sam said.
"We've been inside the walls all night. If none of the other girls are there, she won't be either," Dean said as they entered the apartment.
"Look, try to take a beat and think about this," Sam said calmly. "Maybe we got Holmes M.O. wrong."
"Wrong? He's taking blonde girls. He didn't even try to take me at all and I'm very takeable," Bridget said. "He has Jo and now we gotta rescue her ass before things get any worse."
Dean's phone rang and he answered it. "Yeah…" he paled and his eyes widened. "Ellen."
Bridget and Sam's heads snapped towards Dean as they tried to listen in but only heard Dean's side. "She's gonna have to call you back. She's taking care of feminine business," Bridget rolled her eyes. Ellen wasn't going to buy that. "Look, we'll get her back." Now they both winced, Dean told Ellen her daughter was missing…great. "The spirit we're hunting, it took her…she'll be okay, I promise." Dean frowned at something she said. "What?...It won't. I won't let it. Ellen, I'm really sorry."
Ellen must have hung up because Dean swore snapping his phone shut.
"Don't beat yourself up, Dean. There's nothing you could have done," Sam told him.
"Tell me you two have got something."
"Maybe," Bridget laid out the plans. "Look, if you look at the layout of the Holmes Murder Castle, there's other torture chambers inside the walls, right?"
"Right," Dean nodded.
"But there's one we haven't considered," Sam pointed. "The basement."
"It's always the basement," Bridget sighed.
"This building doesn't have a basement," Dean said.
"You're right. It doesn't. But Bridget and I noticed this – beneath the foundation, it looks like part of an old sewer system. It hasn't been used for-."
"Let's go," Dean announced grabbing a bag and heading out the door. Bridget and Sam exchanged a look but followed him out anyway.
"No…this doesn't scream suspicious at all," Bridget mumbled as they walked down the street, Dean carrying a metal detector and Sam a shovel across the field. The metal detector started to beep frantically and Dean took a shovel from Sam, handing Bridget the detector as the two started digging until they uncovered a trapdoor. The two boys pulled and revealed a hole with a ladder leading down. Bridget put down the metal detector and checked her gun, making sure it was loaded with rock salt. She sighed and gestured at the hole. "Shall we?"
Dean was first to climb down and Bridget followed, ending it with Sam. The three walked down the path towards a set of heavy double door at the end of the long tunnel.
"You think they're alive?" Sam asked.
The sound of someone screaming answered the question and they hurried for the door. Peaking through the small doorway they saw Holmes standing there, his arm through a small gate. "Hey!" Dean yelled and shot at him. He vanished and the three hurried into the room, Dean approaching the metal case. "Jo?"
"I'm here," she shouted and Dean took out a crowbar to open her cage.
Bridget moved over to another case, peaking in to see another scared blonde. It was Teresa. "We're gonna get you out of here, okay?"
"Sam, Bridge," he handed the crowbar to Sam and they worked on opening Teresa's cage while Dean got Jo out.
"You all right," Dean asked her.
"Been better," she said, crawling out. "Let's get the hell out of here before he comes back."
"Actually," he put an arm out stopping her. "I don't think you're leaving here just yet."
"What?" she asked scared out of her mind as Bridget and Sam helped Teresa out. She clung to Sam, still shaking.
"Remember when I said you being bait was a bad plan? Now it's kind of the only plan we got," Dean explained. "Bridget's not blonde."
"Thank God," she snorted.
Jo sighed, "What do I have to do?"
Jo now sat in the middle if the room, waiting alone in the room, the others out of sight and it didn't take long for Holmes to appear. Jo ducked out of the way as the three popped out of their hiding places, shooting the bags lined around the room, pouring out the salt. Jo climbed out of the ring of salt and they watched Holmes now trapped in his own room, surrounded by a ring of salt. Holmes realized he was trapped and started to scream.
"Scream all you want, dick, but there's no way you're stepping over that salt," Jo yelled as he continued to scream. They locked the door behind them and left the sewer
"So, is this job as glamorous as you thought it would be?" Bridget asked her once they were back on the meadow.
"Well, except for all the pee your pants terror, yeah," she said and the others laughed. "But that Teresa girl is gonna live 'cause of us. It is worth it, isn't it?"
"Yeah, yeah it is," Sam nodded.
"Hey, what if someone finds the sewer down there or a storm washes the salt away?" Jo asked.
"Both very good points which is why we're waiting here," Bridget said.
"For what?" she asked and heard a beeping, turning to see a cement trap backing up towards the hole.
"For that," Sam smiled.
"You ripped off a cement truck?" Jo asked and Dean shrugged.
"I'll give it back," he smirked. He pushed a lever on the truck and the cement flowed down into the hole. "Well, that'll keep him down there til hell freezes over."
Hell froze over pretty quick for them as Bridget sat in the back seat between Jo and Sam, lips sealed shut in the quietness of the Impala. Ellen was sitting was sitting in the front with Dean driving looking pissed as hell.
"Boy," Dean said after a long pause. "You…you really weren't kidding about flying out, were you?" Ellen stared straight ahead not answering, Bridget shifted next to Sam. "How about we listen to some music?" Dean turned on the radio and Ellen immediately shut it off. Bridget, Jo, and Sam exchanged a look and Dean sighed. "This is gonna be a long drive."
Once at the Road House they went inside and Sam and Bridget hung back near the door while Dean, ballsy as ever, talked to Ellen. "Ellen? This is my fault. Okay? I lied to you, and I'm sorry. But Jo did good out there. I think her dad would be proud."
"Don't you dare say that," she hissed. "Not you. I need a moment with my daughter – alone."
The three nodded and hurried outside, waiting by the car.
"That went well," Bridget said and leaned against the Impala.
"She's beyond pissed," Sam added.
"She hasn't killed us though…least not yet," she pointed out.
"I don't know why she's so upset though. Jo's safe, she did good," Dean said.
"Yeah, but it's her only daughter who she doesn't want leading this life style and who can blame her," Bridget said. "Her husband died doing this and she doesn't want to lose her daughter too. Jo can be normal. She has that opportunity. One none of us ever had."
Jo came storming out of the Road House then catching their attention by how upset she was.
"That bad, huh?" Dean asked when she was close enough.
"Not right now," she said angrily, near tears.
"What happened?" Dean asked and grabbed her arm. "Hey, talk to me."
She shoved him away. "Get off me!"
"Sorry," he said taken aback by her hostility. "See you around."
"Dean…it turns out my dad had a partner on his last hunt. Funny, he usually worked alone. This guy did, too. But I guess my father figured he could trust him – a mistake. Guy screwed up, got my dad killed."
"What does that have to do with –."
"It was your dad, Dean," she said.
"What?" Dean asked and Bridget exchanged a look with Sam.
"Why do you think John never came back, never told you about us? 'cause he couldn't look my mom in the eye after that. That's why."
"Jo…"
"Just…just get out of here. Please, just leave…" she said and walked away. Dean quietly got in the car, followed by Bridget and Sam. It ended up being a very quiet ride out of there.